


be careful making wishes in the dark

by doctorletmebebrave



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Oneshot, SADrien, a little romantic tension, apologies if it slips into present tense in the beginning a few times, but less puns because ya know sadness, comforting superhero buddies, gabriel agreste needs to pay more attention to his son, i wrote most of this in one night and idk it just happened, ladybug hates to see her cat boy upset, ladynoir july kinda maybe except i wrote it in may and wasn't using a prompt, sadness and puns, yes i titled it after a fall out boy song even though it didn't fit 100 percent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 03:32:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7601752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorletmebebrave/pseuds/doctorletmebebrave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sky was a dim grey, and the cloud cover was backlit by a soft glowing orange. The city laid sprawled before them, a thousand sparkling jewels split in half by the dark waters of the Seine.<br/>Paris' superheroes hang out and talk atop the Notre Dame after a patrol, and Ladybug gets more than she bargains for when she makes a certain observation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	be careful making wishes in the dark

The sky was a dim grey, and the cloud cover was backlit by a soft glowing orange. The city laid sprawled before them, a thousand sparkling jewels split in half by the dark waters of the Seine. A tiny beacon of light shown in the distance, atop the Eiffel Tower. Paris was quiet this sultry spring Monday morning.

  
The hour was late, and most of the rowdy activity had died down after midnight. Ladybug and Chat Noir sat on the roof of the northern side of the Notre Dame. They did this from time to time, staying back later to simply talk. After all, how could a partnership survive on nothing but short quips in the midst of akuma battles? Ladybug knew that when she woke up the next morning, in her own bed as Marinette, she might regret staying out this late again, but right now, she didn’t really care. The world lit by the sun would have to wait, because now there was only the clouded moon, the gleam of the city, and the dark form of Chat sitting on her left.

  
Though the cat was often on the borderline of ridiculous and annoying, there was something deeply, intrinsically within him that drew Ladybug closer. It wasn’t a crush, not really--she loved Adrian, after all--but something no less profound. There was something very comforting knowing that somewhere, out there in grand city of Paris, was someone just like her. Someone just like her, with a kwami to feed a keep track of. Someone who also had to worry about finding time to make up homework and get sleep between patrols, and who had explain random school absences. That someone was sitting right beside her, but it wasn’t really him, not the genuine him. That boy lived somewhere else, unknown, but his superhero identity was sitting right next to her, and that was more than enough for Ladybug.

  
“What’re you doing tomorrow?” She murmured, eyes never lifting from the city. “Anything good? Big? Important?”

  
“Nothing that I know of,” he replied, and she could feel his eyes resting on her. “But my dad does like to drop things on me last minute.”

  
“Sounds a little inconsiderate,” Ladybug says softly, thinking about her own wonderful parents.

  
Chat chuckled, but it wasn’t really a lighthearted laugh. “Yeah, it’s a little rude, but I do it anyway. Don’t really have any choice, no matter what plans I had. You know how parents can be.”

“Yeah,” is all she said back, even though she really _didn’t_ know. Is she spoiled, or are Chat’s parents not as understanding and organized as hers? Ladybug adds this to a mental tally of vaguely disturbing things her partner has mentioned.

  
“What do you have to do tomorrow? Er, well, today,” Chat asked, veering the conversation back towards her.

  
“My parents want me to pick up something for them after I get out of school,” she responded. The bakery needed more supplies (it seemed like they perpetually needed supplies) and she was given the duty to pick up some personalized cupcake wrappers. She couldn’t drive, so it had to be something she could carry. “They pay me for doing odds and ends like this. I also get money for babysitting from time to time.”

  
“Babysitting?” Chat perked up, green eyes glinting in the soft light. “I bet you’re a _fantastic_ babysitter, my lady.”

  
Ladybug ducked her head, grateful for the mask that hid most of the pink on her cheeks. _What is that supposed to mean?_ “If you say so,” she relented with a sigh, mind trailing back to the Puppeteer incident.

 

“I do say so. My lady couldn’t be bad at anything!”

  
Ladybug snorted. Even here, in the golden gloom, on top of the Notre Dame, in the relative peace of a metropolis at sleep, her partner still insisted on flirting. “You’re ridiculous. Miraculous or not, I’m still a human.”  
“Are you?” Chat queried, waggling his eyebrows in a very vexing way.

  
Ladybug playfully shoved his shoulder. “Of course, silly _chaton_.”

  
He laughed, and for a moment the two were bathed in comfortable silence. “My lady--oh,” Chat started, only to be cut short by a colossal yawn. Ladybug didn’t ignore the fact that this was about the seventh yawn in the last several minutes.

  
“Maybe you should go home, Chat. Take a cat nap.”

  
“No, no, I’m fine,” Chat insisted a little too strongly. “This is good.”

  
Ladybug narrowed her eyes. “You need your sleep. Don’t think you’ve gotten away with all this yawning lately.”

  
“I can stay up longer,” he responded quietly, then, louder: “Do you babysit often?”

  
_He’s avoiding my question_ , she realized with a touch of concern. “Chat, why don’t you want to go home?”

  
“I-I just want to spend time with you, my lady,” he backpedaled, the stutter betraying him under Ladybug’s scrutiny.

  
She sighed. “No, _chaton_ , that’s not it.” He was obviously uncomfortable now, eyes not meeting her own and restlessly shifting positions, but she barged on anyway. “You’re always the first to show up for patrol, and you’re always the last to leave. I know you don’t think that I notice, but I know that you don’t always go home at night. What do you do? Do you comb the streets for more trouble to get into? What is so bad that you feel like you’d rather stay out than go on home?”

  
Chat was no longer looking at her, and Ladybug felt a pang of remorse in her chest. _Did I hit an exposed nerve?_ Suddenly she felt very bad for her spiel. _I didn’t say anything that didn’t need to be said, though._

  
When he didn’t respond for another few moments, she prodded. “Chat?”

  
Slowly, deliberately, Chat swung his head to look at her once more. “It’s complicated,” he hissed, sounding just enough like a real cat to give Ladybug chills.

  
“C-complicated?” she stuttered, thrown off by the intensity ruling his eyes. “You know I’m willing to help.”

 

“Can’t.” The reply is short. “It’s not your fight, it’s mine.”

  
“I’m sorry, _chaton_ , but running away every night as Chat Noir isn’t going to solve anything.” The words sting her to say, and Ladybug can only imagine how much her honesty will sting her partner.

  
Chat stood suddenly, a violent movement in the hushed calm of the night. “I should go,” he said, voice sharp and carefully guarded, but before he was able depart there were a pair of red spotted hands on his arm, gently restraining him.

  
“Don’t go,” Ladybug whispered. “Don’t leave like this. We can talk it out.”

  
Her partner refused to meet her eyes.

 

“Why don’t you want to go home?” she repeated.

  
Agonized moments crept by, one by one, until finally, reluctantly, Chat answered. “It’s my father,” he mumbled, words so quiet they were almost swept away in the breeze.

  
“Your father,” Ladybug reiterated gently, trying to coax the words from the black cat.

  
“Everybody loves him,” Chat pauses, “but he isn’t really so great. Not to me, at least. Not since we lost my mother.”

  
“Oh, _mon minou_ ,” Ladybug breathed, and disregarded a stab of déjà vu in favor of unquestioning support. She released one hand from his wrist and rubbed the slick material of his shoulder.

  
Chat was speaking faster now, bitter words pouring from his lips. “He’s just plain cold to me now. Am I his son or an object? It doesn’t seem to matter. We haven’t eaten a meal together or done anything in months. He doesn’t let me have friends over. He never touches me, never hugs me. I suspect he even gets someone else to pick out my gifts.” He clenched his fist. “I feel better as Chat. Bigger. Freer. This is a part of me that he can’t control, a part of me who can escape for a while and actually help people.” His tail lashed, and unconscious extension of his emotions.

  
He looked her dead in the eyes, blue meeting green. “Chat Noir is not just one side of the same coin, it is the better side.”

  
Ladybug’s mind, which had been teeming with a mismatch of comforting phrases ready to be spoken at any moment before, was suddenly blank. “Chat, I…” She was speechless, though she’d always wondered on some low level if her wise-cracking, flirtatious cat was not as carefree as he seemed. His superhero life wasn’t a fun little secret or a part time activity; it was his chance to be himself. She hated the mental image of a sad and lonely Chat.

  
“You don’t have to say anything,” he mumbled after a few moments, probably noting her silence. “It is what it is. I should be thankful that I at least have a miraculous to offer myself.”

  
She finally found words. “No, it isn’t what it is. It’s not okay. I can’t help you during the day, when we’re not transformed, but the nights belong to us.”

  
“Yeah,” he said in a subdued voice. “It does feel better to talk, I guess.”

  
Ladybug smiled slightly. “Good. Can’t have my kitty looking so droopy, now can I?”

  
He absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair and over his false cat ears. “Yeah, no. I’ll be fine.”

  
Ladybug dropped her smile. “Stop it!” she cried. “You keep acting like you’re okay but you just told me you aren’t!”

  
“Sorry, my lady…” Chat sighed, looking utterly drained. “Just a force of habit.”

  
A force of habit? Just how often did her teammate do this? It made Ladybug’s heart hang heavy. “Please don’t do that around me, Chat. We shouldn’t hide things from each other.”

  
“Sorry, Ladybug. I--I promise I won’t lie to you anymore.” Sadness pooled like a puddle of dark water in his voice. “But don’t you feel like you’re different transformed? That somehow...you have the freedom to be _you_?”

  
“Of course I do. It’s like...our miraculouses give us a new chance to put our best foot forward."

  
“Best foot forward?” Chat asked. “But my…my civilian form is totally different.”

  
It was a little surprising to discover that Chat thought his secret identity was so different, but Ladybug knew that she was different as well when she was Marinette. She remembered Tikki’s words: _You’re Ladybug, with or without your suit!_ She blinked. “Nonsense. Why do you talk like your transformed self and your civilian selves are somehow different?”

  
“Because it’s true, my lady.”

  
Ladybug drew a shaky breath. This conversation had been like herding cats, pun intended. _How can I make him understand?_ “You were chosen for your miraculous, like I was. That alone means when detransformed you still have some of the same traits!”  
Ladybug expected Chat to at least see her point, if not agree. She _wanted_ him to. She didn’t expect him to get angry, though.

  
It wasn’t an explosive sort of anger, nor was it quiet and brooding. It was the bitter sort, which targeted fate, the universe, and chance.

  
It scared her.

  
He lifted her hand from his shoulder and dropped it. “How can you know,” he asked flatly, “when you don’t really know me?”

  
Her heart sunk. She searched his face, looking for any clues, but found nothing but weary resentment. She bit her lip and hung her head, feeling her eyes begin to water.

  
Long seconds marched on, and Chat’s question drifted in the air between them like fog. Finally he spoke, “I’m just going to--”

  
“Don’t,” interrupted Ladybug. “Don’t go.”

  
He halted. “What is it then?” His words held a bite; they were the words of someone who no longer wished to talk.

  
Ladybug steeled herself, hoping her words would come out steady. “I do know you, _chaton_. I do know you. _This_ is you. You’re my partner--my smart, funny, helpful, selfless, _wonderful_ partner. And I don’t see why some little black mask makes any difference. Chat Noir isn’t the better side of the same coin, nor is he any side. Chat Noir is one person, one amazing person, no matter whether he’s transformed or not.”

  
Chat was rooted to the spot, looking for all the world like he’d seen a ghost. His rigid position had melted into a shocked slump. “My--my lady…” he stammered. “Th-Thank you.”

  
“Aw, shut up,” Ladybug answered, and rushed forward to wrap her arms around him, enveloping him in a huge hug. She rested her head on his shoulder, and it occurred to her that this was one of the first times she’d voluntarily been so close to him. _Of course, he’s always flirting when he does it…._ “You don’t have to thank me.”

  
Something in his body language told her that somewhere, buried in her hair, Chat had smiled. They pulled away after a few moments--she didn’t need Chat to enjoy the hug _too_ much, or she’d never hear the end of it--and stared at each other in silence for a few seconds.

  
She broke their gaze, feeling a little awkward for reasons she couldn’t grasp. “I think,” she murmured, “that we should go home now.”

  
He cocked his head, looking a little confused. _Don’t make this hard, kitty..._

  
She stuttered. “I-I just didn't want you to leave without knowing that.” Ladybug didn’t understand why the sentence made her falter.

  
Chat bowed, and took a hold of her hand. “As you wish, my lady,” he conceded, planting a light kiss on her knuckles.

  
Ladybug shook her hand away, pulling a face and hoping her partner wouldn’t notice how her cheeks had heated a little. “Ugh, Chat…”

 

He chuckled softly and extended his baton. “Until next time, LB!”

  
She watched him bounce from rooftop to rooftop until his form was nothing more than another shadow in the predawn city. She reflected on the words her and Chat had exchanged. There was always more to learn about her partner, and she was glad she at least knew this now.

  
_I’ll keep a better eye on you, mon minou_ , she resolved.

  
Groaning, Ladybug remembered that was no longer the weekend and she had to go to school in a few hours. With a sigh of defeat, she pulled out her yo-yo and turned toward the bakery, thoughts of a certain cat boy still brushing the edges of her mind.

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote most of this in one night about two months ago then added a better ending (and several hundred more words) after, and now this exists. Whoops. What can I say, I'm a sucker for Chat angst. It was going to be a work with more chapters, but since I didn't go into it expecting to lay down a plot, I got writers block and was unable to come up with anything else, sorry. Thus, it stays a standalone. Hope you enjoyed it!!!


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